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Title: The Rules
Author: Venom_69
Category: Smut, angst
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The Rules
they live by.
Spoilers: Many, little ones.
Season/sequel: Set during Season 8.
Archive: SJ, Heliopolis, my site.
Anywhere else, sure, just let me know where so I can come visit.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, never will. Promise
to put them back in the state I found them. Song isn’t mine either.
Author’s notes: I know, I know, I still
have a lot of challenges to answer too. But, if I didn’t write this, then I would have ended up sleeping with the dog
come November. Sorry guys, I want a bed!
Feedback: Hell yeah! Don’t make me beg, hit reply and stroke my ego please.
Dedication: As always, for LEW. For my Honey. Hope you enjoy this, pretty lady!
Date: 18/01/05
Copyright © to Venom,
2005
***
We’re gonna love one another till morning comes
Seek the sweet salvation for what we’ve
done
We’ll give up resisting one by one
One By One.
***
Rule 1: Clothes on.
***
How
they’d come to the mutual conclusion, Sam will never know.
It didn’t just… happen. Nothing in her
life just happens. It was a decision. A conscious choice. They chose to do this and they set the rules, all in silence.
Sam
doesn’t think that anything specific had happened to start this. It’s been slowly building in them for eight long
years, this need, this fire. Events would add fuel; The locker room, Antarctica, Jolinar, The alternate realities, The Zaytarc
testing, Jonah and Thera. It all contributed. They tried to ignore it, tried to push it aside. She moved on, he moved on,
they were fine.
And then, he looked at her, and they had a conversation without uttering a word and they came up with
The Rule.
Clothes on.
That was the rule.
If the clothes stayed on, they weren’t breaking any regulations.
If skin didn’t meet skin, they weren’t betraying their county. If she couldn’t feel him against her hot
and hard and willing and two seconds from being inside of her, then she wasn’t betraying her fiancé.
It was
fucked up logic if ever she’d heard it.
But he was so very good at this. Too good, she decided, as his teeth
nipped at her bottom lip and pulled.
His hands were pressed tightly against the small of her back, holding her to
him as they desperately moved against each other, searching for release. A release from the tension and the pain and the longing
and the wanting.
Dry humping her Commanding Officer, the *Base* Commanding Officer, in a storage closet. She should
feel ashamed, she knew. She should feel dirty, slutty, worthless, it should feel wrong.
Instead, all she felt was
his body heat through the layers of their clothes. She felt the tension in her abdomen and she pressed her mouth to his desperately
as climax rolls over her.
He muffled her cries and she swallowed his.
***
Rule 2: Limited skin contact.
***
After
the first time, they had mutually decided that it was best not to go down that path again. That path led to madness, and an
overwhelming sense of guilt she felt whenever Pete touched her.
So they stopped.
For a week.
But The
Rules had been modified slightly. ‘No skin’ was frustrating and Sam suspected that that was why they had come
back for more. Why the first time just wasn’t enough. They had limited contact to limit the breaking of the regs. But
limiting contact had also made them lust for more.
So now there was touching. His hands on her breasts, her hands trailing
his torso., underneath their respective shirt
“This is wrong.” He pinched a nipple to prove his point
and she pushed her hips closer to his.
“Yeah, it is.”
Wrong or not, they were both going to come.
***
Rule 3: Oral Sex only
***
Limiting the skin contact hadn’t been enough either, as it
turned out.
Sam still had him, his hands, mouth, hips, on her mind constantly. It was distracting, she was loosing
focus while off world, and that wasn’t acceptable. With her job, she couldn’t afford to be distracted.
So,
here they were again, in their regular closet.
He was on his knees – which had to be killing him by now- and
his mouth was buried between her legs, doing amazingly wicked things to her as she clutched at his hair, trying to pull him
closer to her heat and whimpering. She had always known he would be good at this. He radiated confidence. She would watch
as his tongue snaked out of his mouth for one reason or another at various times over the years. The imagery of his tongue
and what it would do to her had brought Sam to orgasm more times than she would ever admit.
Her imagination never did
him justice.
With a determination that she hadn’t thought him capable of, he was tracing the alphabet with his
tongue. Along her, across her, in her and oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god.
She was going to come, and then she
would fall to her knees and bring him off with her mouth, have him come down her throat.
The thought sent her over
the edge.
***
Rule 4: No Penetration.
***
They’re back in their closet; The Rules have changed
again.
It doesn’t occur to her that they are moving the stopping point further and further back because she
doesn’t want to think about it.
When they are like this, when she is with him, she isn’t concerned about
a rulebook that tries to apply normalcy to their unique situation. She isn’t thinking of the man that she kissed goodbye
on her way to work this morning, the ring that she wears on the third finger of her left hand when she isn’t on base.
She isn’t thinking of the woman that he probably kissed goodbye either, that woman means nothing to her. Sam doesn’t
think about that woman at all. She is only thinking of the next move he will make, even though she knows she can’t predict
him here.
They didn’t even make it a week this time. Three days.
The old rule worked for three days,
it wasn’t enough.
But the new rule is better; No penetration.
If he just rubs the head of his penis along
her folds without being inside of her, coats the tip of his organ with her lubrication, then there is still a chance that
they can walk away. Still a chance that their sanity will remain in tact when they finally stop this. If he fucks her, if
he makes love to her, they both know it will become more of an addiction than it already is. They cannot allow that.
They
will not allow it.
***
Rule 5: Fuck it.
***
It dawns on her, as she is walking to where she knows
that he will be, that this can’t work anymore. Not that it ever did. They both knew that The Rules were little more
than fucked up logic from the start. Neither of them are stupid, they knew it would never be enough. No matter how far they
pushed the line back, it would never satisfy them until they crossed it or walked away from the edge
She opens the
door normally, not looking around to see if anyone notices, not trying to look inconspicuous. She is normal; This is normal
now.
“We can’t do this anymore, can we?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
He
wouldn’t have either. “Agreed. It’s getting us nowhere.”
“Just makes us want more.”
“Forbidden
fruit.” They’re moving closer together in tiny steps. They both know it, but neither says it.
“The
grass is always greener?”
“I hate cliches.” He presses his body against hers.
“I know.”
Their
lips meet, and it isn’t in a tangle of lust.
Sam knows that tomorrow, he will kiss a woman goodbye as he leaves
for work. She will kiss a man goodbye as she leaves for work. She will wear a ring.
It won’t be Pete’s.
***
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